An Act of Love
by Emiliya Wolfe
Summary: Remus only wanted a release from being a werewolf for one night. Narcissa was only curious to find out what a kiss tasted like. Neither expected it to go farther than a single night. It lasted for three.


**For Hillstar - I hope you enjoy it!**

 **For the sake of the story, Narcissa and Remus are the same age.**

 **Thanks to The Crownless Queen for betaing!**

* * *

 **Hogwarts Assignment #4 - Astrology: Air Sign - "** **write about someone pretending to be superficial about someone when in truth he/she really cares very much this person"**

 **Extra Prompts: (song) "Big girls cry" - Sia, (colour) Aquamarine**

 **Duelling Club - (object) Photograph, (word) Unbreakable, (magical creature) Werewolf**

 **Roald Dahl Day -** **Wolf ripple truffle - Write about Remus Lupin**

 **3,559 words**

* * *

When Narcissa learnt that she had been made Prefect, it didn't come as much of a surprise. Unlike many others her age, she didn't have time for trivialities such as love or hatred. She knew that her parents would arrange her marriage on her seventeenth birthday, and that was that. No point in getting attached.

And if you weren't attached, then there was no reason to hate anyone.

But there were some times where she felt lonely. And tonight, she felt that loneliness keenly.

Slughorn was having his usual Slug Club party in the dungeons, and Narcissa was sitting by the fireplace, swirling champagne in her glass as she looked wistfully at the dancing couples.

A movement caught her eye, and she turned back to see Professor Dumbledore sit down in front of her. It was a very good disguise, she had to admit. She could hardly tell the difference from the real thing, down to the purple robes and pointed hat.

'I see Slughorn will be missing some of his Polyjuice stock tomorrow,' she noted.

'How did you know?' Dumbledore asked, his voice tinted with amusement.

'Because the real Dumbledore is currently attending the feast in the Great Hall,' Narcissa said, smirking. 'Good try, though.'

A sudden uproar distracted her, and she watched as Bellatrix climbed onto the table and downed three shots. Slughorn had long since left his own party, pleading a headache, though everyone knew that he couldn't stay up past eleven o'clock.

'Do you want to join the game?' Dumbledore gestured towards the laughing bundle of famous wizards and magical creatures.

'Oh, no,' Narcissa replied, dragging her eyes away. She took another sip of champagne. 'It's not my sort of thing. Too many risks.'

'And what are you afraid of risking?'

'It's just a silly game,' Narcissa dismissed. She noticed that Dumbledore's glass was empty and summoned a champagne bottle. 'More?' she asked, not waiting for a response.

'Thank you, my angel.' Fake Dumbledore's eyes twinkled just like the real one's as he sipped his glass. 'Would it be too forward of me to say that you are stunning tonight?'

Narcissa laughed, light and airy, and was glad that her blush couldn't be seen under the layers of white makeup. She was wearing an Acromantula silk dress, her skin and eyelashes powdered white to match her silvery blond hair. She had already been approached by several boys that evening, but none with so much tact.

'And what brings Dumbledore to join me by the fire instead of joining his friends? That werewolf seems awfully eager to have you join.'

It was true. A bare-chested boy with ridiculously large snout and ears was waving his arms in a vain attempt to catch Dumbledore's attention. Her conversation partner twisted in his seat, rolling his eyes as he turned back to face Narcissa.

'Too much drama,' he replied. 'I get enough of their antics every other day of the year. Today… I just want to sit next to a pretty girl by the fire, for as long as I am able.'

Narcissa's lips curved of their own accord. Maybe, just for one night, she could let herself dream of a life belonging to someone other than Narcissa Black.

* * *

'Moony got busy last night,' James joked, as Sirius bounced on his bed making kissing noises.

Remus casually turned the page of his book. 'I have no idea what you are talking about.'

'Oh, you're not getting out of this one,' James insisted, pulling a piece of parchment from his pocket. 'I have photographical evidence.'

Remus felt his heart beat faster. Had James and Sirius seen…? No, they couldn't have. He had made sure they had left the party before he let himself properly relax. It had been one kiss. One perfect, sweet, glorious kiss that had taken him by surprise, but one kiss nonetheless.

The photograph was shoved under his nose, preventing him from reading the last page of the chapter. But Remus had already forgotten the plot of the book. It was strange, seeing Dumbledore kissing a girl four times younger, but last night he had barely noticed his disguise. Her lips were ruby red against a sea of white, and Remus felt his own tingle in response, even now. He swallowed, trying to meet James's gaze with a level look.

'So?' he asked. 'Isn't that what parties are for? To hook up one time and then forget about them later?'

Peter wolf-whistled, coming over on Remus's other side to take a look at the photo.

'Remus has officially joined the list of Hogwarts' bad boys,' Sirius declared, jumping from his bed to Remus's, not caring that the mattress groaned under his weight. He pulled Remus's head into some sort of unpleasant hug. 'My little Moony is all grown up.'

'What happened to swearing off girls?' James asked curiously, shoving Sirius out of the way.

'I swore off girls because of my… condition-'

'Furry little problem,' James corrected. 'Moony, when will you learn to accept this term?'

Remus gave James his best Prefect stare.

'Carry on,' the other boy said, his voice suddenly small.

'There isn't much to say. I don't know who she was, and I don't want to. She'll forget about me, I'll forget about her; and my "furry little problem", as Prongs puts it, doesn't come into the equation. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to have breakfast.'

He neglected to mention that he had only approached the girl in the first place because he wasn't himself. Remus Lupin wasn't deserving of love, not even a hint of it. But it had been nice to have a taste of normalcy, of what could have been.

'Breakfast,' Peter said dreamily, changing the subject as Remus knew he would. 'There's nothing better than food to soak up alcohol in the morning.'

'Hear, hear!' James and Sirius shouted in unison, and the four of them trooped out of the dormitory.

Unbeknownst to the others, Remus folded up the photograph, putting it in his pocket for later. He had also neglected to mention that he wouldn't forget about her.

He didn't want to.

* * *

Narcissa pushed about the fruit on her place, cutting her grapefruit into smaller and smaller slices as she sighed. Her eyes flickered, almost unwillingly, towards the Gryffindor table. There he was, sitting with his friends as usual.

It hadn't been hard to find out who the fake Dumbledore was. Sirius Black would scream his name after every successful drink, whereas the fake Dumbledore's other friend wouldn't even touch any of the women, refusing all dares that had to do with physical contact, but accepting any other humiliating sentence. There was only one such prideless prude in the whole school ― James Potter.

That left Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. And Peter Pettigrew wasn't so refined.

She rose a finger to her lips, touching them as if to bring back the memory of the previous evening. Her gaze locked onto Remus Lupin, watching his cautious smile grace his features, his delicate movements as he ate while balancing a book on his lap, and she knew without a doubt that he was the one she had kissed. Even now, her stomach fluttered with a foreign feeling that she knew all too well from its description.

'Cissy?' Bellatrix cut through her musing. 'Are you well? You've barely eaten a thing.'

Narcissa turned to her sister, a genuine smile making its way to her face. She was the only person Bellatrix allowed herself to worry about, and in return Narcissa was devoted to her elder sister. Andromeda's betrayal had only brought the younger Blacks closer together.

'I'm fine,' she said, knowing that if she blamed her attitude on sickness it would only worry her sister further. 'A little tired.'

'Oh,' Bellatrix said, relaxing. Then she tensed again, turning to look at the Gryffindor table. 'Did something happen with our _dearest_ cousin?'

'No,' Narcissa replied, taken aback. 'Why would you say such a thing?'

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, watching Sirius make a fool of himself once more. Narcissa followed her line of sight, and the corner of her mouth twitched as she saw Remus lift his book out of the way of his fellow Gryffindors' shenanigans. _He's wasted on those fools,_ she thought, suddenly finding herself wishing that Remus had been a pureblood, and at least a Ravenclaw, if not a Slytherin.

Bellatrix turned back and quickly, Narcissa cracked down on any smile she might have sported. Unfortunately, the effort made her frown, which only incensed her sister further.

'I knew it,' Bellatrix said shortly. 'I'm going to kill him. Or at least hex him into the next world. Lucius, Rodolphus!' she barked at two boys sitting to their left. 'Come with me. You're going to enjoy this. Cissy, are you coming?'

'No,' Narcissa replied, touching a hand to her head. 'I think I'll go back to bed for a while. And please, Bella, don't cause trouble. The Gryffindors aren't worth a single House point.'

A myriad of emotions traversed Bellatrix's face, as she battled between her lust for her supposed vengeance and the glory of the House Cup.

'We can make up the points,' she decided eventually, stalking towards the Gryffindor table.

Narcissa slipped out of the Great Hall, unwilling to watch, unwilling to intervene.

 _This is why I don't let myself fall into these situations,_ she told herself. _Maybe Bella will ruin Remus's face. Maybe then I can quash this rebellion in the bud._

She ignored the fact that she hadn't even seen Remus Lupin's face when she kissed him.

* * *

By eight o'clock, Remus had cleaned his part of the dormitory, done all of his homework ― for the next three weeks ― read his Defence Against the Dark Arts book for the third time, and had even cleaned out the nooks and crannies of his trunk.

James and Sirius were currently in detention, nursing their wounds and hurt pride from the altercation with Black and Lestrange. Peter had disappeared, no doubt to cause mayhem to get the other boys out of said detention.

And Remus had tried to avoid the weight of the photograph in his pocket.

His hand reached into his pocket for the umpteenth time that day to caress the worn parchment. Almost as quickly, he withdrew it. He hadn't taken it out yet, something that had required a supreme amount of willpower.

 _And even if you did take it out, you don't know who the girl is_ , he reminded himself, shaking his head.

There was only one thing that could clear his mind. And that was chocolate.

Abruptly, he got up from reshelving his books in alphabetical order, dusted off his robes, and made his way to the kitchens.

Only to find that someone had beat him to it. She had dragged her chair to sit by the fire, nursing a warm cup of what looked like hot chocolate between her hands. Remus stood in the doorway for a few seconds, staring at the long, elegant fingers that less than twenty four hours ago had been threaded through his hair.

'What is Master Remus wanting today, sir?' a house-elf asked, breaking the spell as he tugged at Remus's arm to close the door and stop the draft.

At those words, the girl in the chair turned, her river of white blond hair undulating as she flicked it behind her ear. Her aquamarine eyes widened in surprise when they met his, her long lashes dark and curly with the makeup that framed them. The house-elf tugged again impatiently.

'I'll have what she's having,' Remus said automatically, his feet carrying him closer to the fireplace despite his protests, his hands reaching out to tug a chair to sit opposite the girl. His mind went blank, but his heart yearned and pounded for attention, stating clearly what it wanted.

'Do you mind?' he asked, wondering how he hadn't recognised Narcissa earlier. Suddenly, he was doubly glad he had taken the photograph from James. Now, Sirius wouldn't be able to see it.

'No,' she replied, and Remus noticed that her voice was melodic. He hadn't realised, what with all of the music last night. He wondered if Narcissa also knew who he was.

 _Of course she doesn't_ , he thought. _There's no way anyone would be able to see past that disguise. No way at all._

He was a Gryffindor, she was a Slytherin. He was Sirius's best friend, she was part of the family that renounced him. Above all, he was a werewolf.

 _One evening. One evening of conversation,_ he told himself. That was all that he would allow himself.

And then he would throw away the photograph.

* * *

Narcissa was torn. She knew that it was wrong, that she would be married off to someone else, but she had never felt the way she did right now. With every word, with every sip, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper for Remus Lupin.

They had so much in common ― their love of books, of peace and quiet, their need to make sure that their friends and loved ones were all right, even if they were deemed the mother hen of their social group and most importantly, their aspirations to become Healers later on in life.

 _Is this love?_ she asked herself. She knew that she had only just developed these feelings, but it felt as though she had known Remus Lupin for an age.

'Well, I suppose I should bid you goodnight,' she said, needing time to collect herself before she went to the point of no return.

Remus got up immediately, putting his mug down at the table.

'I'll walk you to your Common Room,' he said. 'Two Prefects walking together after hours looks less suspicious than one.'

Narcissa couldn't fault him for his logic, though her heart ached for the romance that he had shown her the night before. They walked in tandem towards the dungeons, the conversation that had been flowing all night falling silent as the tension rose. As they got near the Slytherin dungeon, Narcissa stopped her fellow Prefect. No self-respecting Slytherin would let a Gryffindor see where the entrance to their Common Room was.

'I suppose this is it, then,' she said, hanging her head a little as her eyes lowered to the floor. She took a deep breath, her heart prompting her to go on. She wouldn't be risking anything by asking. 'Will I see you a third night?'

'A third…' Remus trailed off as Narcissa looked him in the eye, waiting for recognition to spark.

She wasn't disappointed.

Remus's hand rose towards her, slowly, slowly enough for her to halt it whenever she wanted, and he brushed it against her hair, travelling the length of it to touch her arm near the elbow. Narcissa felt a smile pressing itself to her lips, and she took a step closer, wanting for nothing more than to be nearer to him.

She felt a cool touch on her cheek, his fingers slightly rough, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. She leaned into it, unconsciously seeking his heat.

Narcissa couldn't have said who initiated it, but soon they were kissing. It was not the chaste kiss of Halloween, but fervent, passionate, a kiss where she felt herself searching for something and finding it over and over again. She pressed herself against him, moulding her body to fit his own.

 _Is this what Andromeda abandoned her family for?_ Narcissa wondered as they broke apart, their foreheads still touching, their noses still brushing against each other as they gasped for breath. _Because if so, then I think I understand._

* * *

'Sorry,' Remus Lupin said as he bumped past Narcissa on his way out of the Great Hall.

Narcissa looked up, but didn't react. Rabastan Lestrange, on the other hand, did.

'Watch where you're going!' he yelled after the Prefect, before muttering to Narcissa, 'bloody Gryffindors, acting as though they own the place. Someone didn't learn their lesson, apparently.'

Evidently, Bellatrix had included Rodolphus's little brother in her plans yesterday.

'Gryffindors never do,' she said softly, pocketing the small slip of parchment that had found its way into her hand. 'Just leave it, Rabastan. They're not worth the effort.'

'Do they really never bother you?' Rabastan pressed curiously.

'Does the Basilisk ever bother himself with the toad?' Narcissa asked haughtily, picking up an idiom from her great aunt. It came in useful more often than not.

'I pity the man who has to break this snow queen,' Rabastan jested, but Narcissa knew there was no heat behind it. Many Slytherins admired her cool and collected exterior.

If only she were the same on the inside. These past few days had melted her heart of ice, and she didn't know if she could build up the walls again. She didn't know if she wanted to.

Back in the privacy of her dormitory, she unfurled the secret parchment and read:

 _Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at the strike of ten._

There was no signature, no name, but Narcissa knew that it was better this way. Remus obviously cared about his friends' opinions, and she doubted the blood traitors had any kind words to say about her.

At nine o'clock, she bade her roommates goodnight, pretending that she was leaving for her patrol. Instead, she holed herself up in the Prefects' bathroom, carefully applying the right amount of makeup to her face to create as beautiful an image as possible. Of course, she always tried to appear flawless ― she knew not who her future husband would be, and wished to make a good impression ― but that night she was especially careful.

* * *

Remus walked into the top room of the Astronomy Tower at the tenth strike, not more, not less. This was going to be hard, and he had planned everything to the last minute to make the blow less painful.

Narcissa was already waiting, a vision to behold. The moonlight caught her sea-blue eyes, making them seem larger than usual, and her blond hair looked silver once more. Remus could only compare her to a Veela, but she was too gentle for that, so instead he compared her in his mind to a water nymph, and even then he felt he came up short.

'You are radiant,' he breathed, knowing that what he was about to do was the right move. He moved closer, taking her fragile-looking hands in his own, feeling the skin as smooth as silk beneath his palms. 'And I have never felt this way about anyone before in my life.'

'Neither have I,' Narcissa breathed, moving forwards to kiss him.

He took a step backwards, knowing that if her lips were to meet his then he would lose all of his resolve. She frowned, her liquid eyes creasing in confusion.

'This… This has to stop,' he started, and she nodded in understanding.

'I know,' she replied. 'I thought the social pressure might be too much for you. And… I know that it has only been a few days… but I feel like it could go on forever. I feel like you know me, better than anyone else has known me in my life. We can keep this a secret-'

'Narcissa,' Remus cut through whatever she was about to say next, loathing himself with each passing moment. 'That's not what I meant. We're too different. I'm not good enough for you. You need someone pure, someone… unsullied.'

'Then let's run away together,' Narcissa cried, clasping his hands tightly. 'My sister Andromeda, she would be able to help us. Remus, blood means nothing if it means I cannot be with you!'

If only she knew that it was no longer Muggle blood that ran through his veins.

'But it does to me,' Remus replied, letting her think that he was breaking things off for blood purity. 'And I won't change my mind.'

Cowardly, he withdrew his hands from her own, leaving her alone as he walked past her, out of the door and down the stairs. And with each step he took, he could hear Narcissa sob. And with each sob, he felt another piece of his heart break away from the rest.

 _It's for the best,_ he told himself. _A werewolf like you should never have approached her in the first place._

He would never make such a mistake again.

* * *

Narcissa waited for Remus to close the door behind her before she slid down to the floor. A choked sob slipped out, followed by another, until soon she had her fingers pressed to her face, trying vainly to stop the flow of tears.

As she rubbed a hand across her eyes, she opened them to see streaks of black coating her skin. But for once, she didn't care whether she looked pretty, or whether her makeup was flawless. She was sure that her face was blotchy and her eyes red, but what was the point of looking pretty if it didn't help her keep the boy she loved?

Instead, she cried until there were no tears left, until she was left hating Remus for capturing her love, and herself for giving it away so freely in the first place. Because it turned out her heart wasn't as unbreakable as she thought.


End file.
